


your poison in my veins

by pleurer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time Together, Himbo Peter Parker, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pollen Makes Victim Unable To Think Clearly Unless They Have Something In Their Ass, Porn with Feelings, Protective Tony Stark, Sex Pollen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-06 15:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/pseuds/pleurer
Summary: “You sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” asks Tony.“Mmmph, hurt me, please, Mr. Stark,” says Peter, rocking his hips up against Tony’s leg. And that’s when it finally occurs to Tony that something is deeply wrong.





	your poison in my veins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vandoorne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/gifts).

> For the prompt ‘Pollen Makes Victim Unable To Think Clearly Unless They Have Something In Their Ass’. Hope you have a good Pollen Exchange!
> 
> Title from What You Wanted - OneRepublic.

Tony doesn’t notice something is wrong when Peter presses his face into his neck as Tony flies them home from the mission, carrying Peter in his arms. He doesn’t notice something is wrong when Peter keeps making these pained little noises that sound like they’re straight out of Tony’s wet dreams, because Tony’s always getting inappropriately turned on by Peter, anyway. And he doesn’t notice something is wrong when he takes them back to the penthouse and drops Peter on the bed, taking off Peter’s mask to help him breathe, and Peter grabs onto Tony’s wrist and looks at him, really _ looks _at him, eyes half-lidded and sultry and cheeks rosy red. It’s exertion, he tells himself. Peter’s tired from the long and strenuous fight, and that’s all.

“You sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” asks Tony. 

“Mmmph, hurt me, please, Mr. Stark,” says Peter, rocking his hips up against Tony’s leg. And that’s when it finally occurs to Tony that something is deeply wrong. He takes off his own mask, but keeps on the rest of the suit, fight-or-flight instincts activated. His first reaction is that he’s hallucinating, because there’s no _ way _Peter would be acting like this otherwise. 

“FRIDAY, what’s going on?” he asks. “Is there something in my system? Is this a dream? A really, _ really _realistic dream?”

“There is nothing in your system, sir,” FRI reports back. “However, it appears that Peter’s system was infected when he made contact with the enemy’s weapon. The drug appears to be a type of sex pollen.”

Tony chokes on his own spit. 

“Wow,” says Peter with a laugh. He sits up and drapes himself all over Tony’s lap, rubbing quick little circles against Tony’s thigh. “That’s so kinky.”

“Pete,” says Tony, choked off, as he holds Peter by the hips to keep him still, but to no avail. Peter uses his super strength to rut even harder against Tony, letting out a high-pitched groan that unfortunately shoots straight to Tony’s crotch. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” says Peter. “Manhandle me harder, sir. I want your bruises on my hips for _ days.” _

Tony shuts his eyes and counts to three to will himself to calm down. It doesn’t work. Peter presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to Tony’s neck and Tony jolts. 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. This is heading into uncharted territory that has stayed uncharted for a reason, unless Tony puts a stop to this _ right now. _“FRIDAY, give me details on the sex pollen. What is it, and how do I get it out of his system?”

“It appears that Peter has been rendered unable to think clearly unless he has something inside of his rectum. The only known antidote is sexual intercourse, or object insertion of a sexual nature.”

“Not the answer I was looking for,” says Tony, strained, as Peter paws ineffectually at the metal of Tony’s suit. “Okay, okay, _ God, _fine, I’ll take it off.” 

Tony deactivates the suit, and opens Peter’s own suit by hitting the spider in the centre of his chest. Peter groans in relaxation, stretching out his limbs as they’re freed from the confines of the tight suit. Unfortunately, they glint in the slanted light of the sunset coming in through Tony’s blinds, and it all only makes Peter’s naked body look far more attractive than Tony has ever imagined, all lithe muscle and smooth, soft skin. 

“Can’t think clearly, huh,” says Tony. Basically, that means Peter can’t consent, which is. Well. Tony swallows around the lump in his throat. This is probably the worst case of monkey’s paw he’s ever had in his life. Talk about getting what you want in exactly the way you’d never want it.

“Okay, kid. What’s your name?” he asks Peter, to determine exactly how much of Peter’s logical brain is still functioning.

“I’m your slut, Mr. Stark,” says Peter, voice dripping like honey as he spreads a hand over Tony’s chest. “I’m your little fucktoy.”

Tony grits his teeth and breathes out through his nose. He raises two fingers in front of Peter’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I don’t know, but I want them inside me,” says Peter, and promptly opens his mouth and takes Tony’s fingers inside of his mouth, licking them with a soft, wet tongue. Tony’s dick jumps in his pants.

“Okay, so zero. Zero percent of your brain is functioning right now. Do we really have to do this? FRI said object insertion, so that means if I use a dildo that’d be okay, right?” He really doesn’t want to make this more intimate than it needs to be, for Peter’s sake. Hell, he doesn’t know if the kid has even had sex before— what kind of first time would this be, where he’s high out of his mind and being fucked by the only person who happened to be around. Not that a dildo would really make things better, but at least— then it wouldn’t really be Tony.

“Please, sir, please fuck me on your cock,” says Peter. He’s already palming at Tony’s cock, eyes dazed, hands moving in no semblance of rhythm. “I’ll do anything you want, just please, let me have this. Fuck me, Mr. Stark, make me_ yours._”

A spurt of precome stains the front of Tony’s boxers traitorously. He barely manages to stifle the groan that threatens to escape his throat. He’s not going to be turned on by this. He’s not. It’s barely even Peter in there, just— someone else wearing Peter’s body like a mask. Like a bootleg version of Tony’s favourite sex dreams.

“Okay, dildo it is,” says Tony. He moves to get up off the bed, but Peter _ whines, _ high in his throat, and pins Tony down on the bed hard. Tony lets out a soft _ oof _noise and tries desperately not to catalog the inadvertent display of super strength as incredibly attractive.

_ “Please,” _says Peter, sounding close to tears. “Don’t go, Mr. Stark— fuck, I need you. I need you inside me so bad I can’t even think— oh God.” In one swift motion, he rips Tony’s boxers right off of him and tries to sit on his dick. Tony scrambles to hold Peter still and lift him up. 

“Hey, hey, easy there, champ. You ever heard of a thing called prep?”

Peter looks at him, not comprehending for a moment, and then finally nods. “Is that where you put your fingers inside me? Because I need that. I need that so bad.” He grabs Tony’s hand and brings it to his ass, but Tony jerks it away.

“Patience, kiddo. I’ve got to get the lube.” 

This time before Peter can pin him down and prevent him from moving, Tony presses a kiss just below Peter’s ear and Peter melts, falling forward onto the bed in an incoherent mess as Tony gets up to grab the lube. While he’s rummaging around in his drawers for the dildo, though, something sticky shoots onto his bare back and before he knows it, he’s being tugged sharply back to bed by Peter’s webbing. It’s a miracle the skin doesn’t get ripped off his back.

“Oh my God,” says Tony. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I promise. I just want to make this good for you.”

“Please,” says Peter, eyes full of crazed desperation. “I— I need—”

“Okay. Okay. I’ve got you, Pete, I’ve got you.” He holds Peter’s head in his hands and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. If he’s going to do this, then he’s going to do it properly, with as little hurt as possible. He pours a generous amount of lube over his fingers, wetter than he’d like it, but wet enough to hopefully make it as painless as possible for Peter. Only when he’s inserted that first finger inside of Peter does he allow himself to fully appreciate the sight before him— Peter’s body, gorgeous and pliant, and Peter’s cock, cute and flushed red, standing hard at attention while still completely untouched. He reaches out to give it a stroke, test the waters, only Peter comes immediately with a harsh cry, head falling forward onto Tony’s shoulders. 

Tony’s own cock is painfully hard as he takes in the fact of what just happened. He lets go of Peter’s cock, finger still buried inside of him, and wipes Peter’s come on the sheets next to him. “Peter? You okay? Do you want to stop?”

“Oh my God,” says Peter. “Oh my God, no, _ please _ keep going.” He sounds a little less slurred than before, though, actually. Maybe it’s the finger inside of him that’s helping. Tony adds in a second, and Peter tightens and moans around the stretch, clinging tightly onto Tony’s shoulders. 

“Let me know if you can think clearly again, alright? Seriously, kid, just tell me when to stop, and I will. I just want to get you through this.”

“I—” Peter chokes on a groan, pushing himself down onto Tony’s fingers. “I— _ oh. _ Fuck. I— Mr. Stark, more, _ please._”

It’s impossible to tell at this point, Tony realizes. If any semblance of coherent thought has returned to him, it’s been thrown out the window by sexual arousal. And if Tony tests the theory by pulling his fingers out, Peter will just go crazy with desire again. It’s a lose-lose situation, and there’s nothing Tony can do but keep going, and hope that bringing Peter to climax again will finally get rid of the drug altogether and get the old Peter back, the one Tony knows and loves.

Except, the problem is— Tony thinks he’s getting way too attached to this Peter for his own good. He adds a third finger and Peter bounces on them like he’s made for it, chanting a litany of “please, _ please, _I need your cock, I need it.” Every single word, every obscene noise, that falls from Peter’s pretty lips burns hot underneath the surface of Tony’s skin until finally, what’s left of his self-restraint breaks, and he lines up his cock with Peter’s entrance. 

Peter sinks down on his cock, engulfing it in tight, wet heat, and Tony cries out at how _ good _it feels. He’s been pining for this relentlessly, endless late nights tossing and turning in bed culminating into this incredible moment. Before he can stop himself, he kisses Peter on the lips, cradling the back of his neck, and Peter whimpers into the kiss and returns it with fervour. The sensation of Peter’s tongue moving against his own has Tony’s hips thrusting up into Peter, and the noises and words that die on Peter’s tongue as Tony moves inside him fill the room along with the sound of skin on skin.

When Tony pulls away to breathe, Peter looks at him— and only then does Tony see that he looks more coherent than ever. 

“Pete,” says Tony breathlessly. “You with me?”

“Yeah,” says Peter softly. “Yeah, I’m with you. I’ve been with you this whole time.” He rocks himself on Tony’s cock in slow circles.

And maybe Peter isn’t completely lucid yet, but nonetheless, Tony moans helplessly, reduced to putty by how overwhelming this all is. He brushes back the stray curl that’s plastered to Peter’s forehead with sweat, and he looks so ridiculously attractive that Tony can’t help but groan. “Fuck, kid, you’re amazing,” he says shakily. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to move on from this.”

“Don’t,” says Peter, eyes shining with an implacably tender emotion. He spreads a gentle hand over Tony’s chest, and looks him imploringly in the eyes. “Please don’t. I— please, I want to keep you.”

For a moment, Tony forgets how to breathe. And then, acting all on their own, his hips jerk up hard inside of Peter, drawing a strangled cry. 

“Fuck,” says Tony, clawing desperately at the edges of his composure. “Fuck, Peter, I— you’re so— you’re so _ good. _I’ve always been yours. Always.”

Peter moans, eyes filling with tears, from the pleasure or emotional intensity, or maybe both. And then he comes hard, a string of incoherent “Mr. Stark”s falling from his lips as he shakes through it. Tony reaches a hand to swipe away the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and Peter holds on tight to Tony’s hand, brings his fingers into his mouth and sucks on them, tender and passionate like he’s taking in every part of Tony he possibly can. That’s what gets Tony to tip over the edge. He comes with a shout inside of Peter, hips jolting through the aftershocks. Peter whimpers and tightens around him, milking Tony for all that he’s worth until, oversensitive and spent, he lets his head fall back against the pillow. 

Peter gets up off of Tony and flops down next to him, catching his breath. When the capability of thought returns to Tony, he looks over at Peter to see that Peter is curled up, facing away from Tony, shoulders hunched in on himself. The discarded Spider suit lies forlornly on the wooden floor, a light splattering of pink on the fabric as the only reminder of the drug that had started this all. Tony scoots over and runs a hand through Peter’s hair. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Pete? Is there anything you need? Water? A shower?”

Peter shakes his head silently.

“Then I’ll leave you be, alright? I’ll take the couch.” 

“That’s— yeah, of course. I mean. Of course you wouldn’t want to sleep here with me.” Peter laughs darkly under his breath.

Tony turns Peter over by the shoulder. Peter shrugs his hand off and sits up. Tony sits up, too. Peter’s jaw is clenched, his eyes downcast. The sun has set by now, and the dim evening light casts a shadow over his face. 

“That’s not what I meant,” says Tony. “I just thought— I figured you’d probably be a little embarrassed by what we did. I know I wouldn’t have been your first choice, no matter how enthusiastic the drug made you think you were. I just want to stay out of your hair as much as I can.”

Peter’s head snaps up so fast it’s alarming. “I wasn’t— did you really think that? Everything I said, that was— all of that was true. The drug just brought everything to the surface. Everything I’ve been wanting for years.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat in his chest. “I— Peter, _ what?” _

Peter exhales a sigh and shifts on the bed. “Yeah. I— I wanted you, Mr. Stark. With or without that stupid drug. And I have for _ years, _and it fucking sucks that it had to happen this way— I mean, you couldn’t even say no, because I basically threw myself at you. So I totally get it if you hate me. I really do.”

“Peter, I could never hate you,” says Tony. He pulls Peter in closer by the arm, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I want you just as much. I wanted you before all this, and I want you now, still. It didn’t even occur to me to say no.”

Peter’s eyes are wide, shining with tears. “Really?” he says. “So all that stuff you said— about— about wanting to be mine, that was— you meant all that?” 

“I did,” says Tony. “And I still do.”

Peter wraps his arms around Tony and buries his face in his shoulder. “Oh my God,” he says. “I can’t believe this. I— Mr. Stark, I love you _ so much._”

Tony exhales, and cradles Peter’s head in his hand. “I love you too, kid. It’s going to be okay, yeah? We’ll figure this out.”

And he really does believe that.

-

“So,” asks Tony later, as he’s cleaning Peter off in the shower. “All that stuff you said. Those were real fantasies? All that stuff about— what was it— being my slut and my little fucktoy.”

Peter flushes bright red. “Um, yeah. I’m sorry. I know it’s weird. I get it if you don’t want to, um, do that kind of thing.”

“Kid, trust me, there’s nothing you could suggest that I wouldn’t be on board with.” Tony kisses Peter on the top of his head and smiles. “We can try things out another time. You’ve been a good boy today, so let’s get cleaned up and get you to bed for now, huh?”

At the words _ good boy, _Peter makes a little squeaky noise in the back of his throat. Tony looks down to see that he’s already hard again. So degradation and praise worked for him in equal measure. That was good to know. Tony would have to test this out some more. Maybe later. Maybe now.

“You know what?” Tony offers, “we could go for another round tonight. I definitely can’t get it up again, but we never did put that dildo to use, did we?”

Peter grins at him, eyes twinkling. “That sounds good.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was posted anonymously for a fic exchange on 9/20, and has now been redated for author reveals.


End file.
